Tales from New Kakari: Remy (pt. 2)

c/w: language, gun violence, light gore, blood

“Tarado Station, named after Mika Tarado, a visionary who helped bring New Kakari to life. She was the first of many governors to lead the bustling metropolis to prosperity,” Leo reads monotonously off a sign on the wall.

“Too bad she got assassinated like our last governor,” Jackson mutters under his breath. He glances around restlessly, clearly worried the girls aren’t going to show up.

Remy adds, “I don’t think we’ve had any governors that weren’t assassinated.”

They’re waiting at the chosen meetup spot, one of many stations connected to the New Kakari monorail system. Here, there’s a lot more pedestrians, and they aren’t at all scared like the ones near Remy’s house and Garnet High School. Remy thinks this is probably because they are in central New Kakari, where all the officials and elites live. The syndicates must not be very interested in this part of town, Remy thinks.

“Do you think they’re even coming?” Jackson asks to no one in particular. Leo and Remy share a glance.

“Dude, chill out. We got here early, so of course they’re gonna show up after us,” Leo says, patting his back. “Don’t worry. As long as you’re with me, I’ll make sure you get the girl.”

Remy interjects. “Hey, I’m the one who even made this possible. You two wouldn’t even know Marlowe and Lucy if not for me.”

“You have no chill. I am the chill,” Leo replies simply. Remy doesn’t even bother responding to that one.

“I feel like in this situation, Leo is more valuable. Sorry, Remy,” Jackson says. Suddenly, Leo’s wrist starts beeping. His wrist-display shows a caller. He quickly answers, holding it up to his face.

“. . . yeah . . . I’m with my friends . . . right now? Does it have to be now? . . . yes, sorry.”

Jackson turns pale. Remy facepalms.

Leo hangs up and gulps.

“So . . . I wasn’t supposed to go out today. I promised my brother I’d help him out at the house,” Leo says.

“It’s alright. I’ll take care of this guy,” Remy says, slinging a arm over Jackson’s shoulder. “You have nothing to worry about, Leo.”

Leo grins. “Take my chillness with you. You’ll need it.”

“Thanks.”

He’s about to leave, but he stops. “Wait, that reminds me.”

He walks up to Remy and leans close, slipping something into his hand. Jackson sees it and yelps with surprise.

“Shhh!” Leo whispers loudly. “Keep it hidden. If you have it out in the station, people are going to freak out.”

When Remy looks down, he sees it. Against the backdrop of the peaceful Tarado Station, it looks so out of place. It’s a dark, silver revolver, like the one he saw in Mr. Larson’s classroom. In fact, it bears a striking similarity to that exact gun. Remy quickly stashes it into his pants. He has so many questions: Why does Leo have a firearm? Where did he get it? But one question seems to rise above all the rest.

“Leo . . . why would we need a gun today?” Remy says, trying to keep his voice calm.

Leo gulps again. “Well. It might be, uh, dangerous out there. You never know.”

“You said you scouted it and that it would be safe,” Remy continues darkly. “Did you lie?”

“Look,” Leo says with a sigh. “There weren’t many arcades around. This was the best choice. I know it’s in a dangerous district, but with a gun like that we’ll be fine. My brother taught me how to shoot.”

His wrist-display starts beeping again. Leo realizes the mistake in what he said.

“I mean . . . you guys will be fine. That’s why I stole the gun from our classroom.”

I knew it. He stole it, Remy thinks.

“Just pick up the call and go. We’ll figure something out.”

Leo quickly apologizes and briskly walks off.

Remy massages his temple, trying to make sense of the situation. And with almost perfect timing, he feels a painful poke on his abdomen. He recoils, knowing the source of the poke before he sees it.

“Whats up, Remy!” Lucy says, her finger still held up threateningly. Rather than a school uniform, she’s dressed in casual clothes: a pair of white and purple shorts that matches her unzipped jacket. She even has a pair of shades resting on her head that she probably won’t even use because it’s later in the evening.

Behind her, Marlowe appears, also in casual clothing. She’s wearing a leather jacket, completely zipped up, with baggy pants. For the first time, he understands why Jackson is so attracted to her. She’s not just pretty—she feels confident, capable, and strong, but not so much in a physical sense. As she walks up to them, her face is emotionless, but Remy imagines she’s probably inwardly holding back her excitement about the arcade. The thought makes him smile.

“Wow, you two look great. I didn’t know we were dressing up,” Remy says.

“Oh please,” Lucy says with an eye roll. “We’re not that easy.”

Marlowe high-fives her and adds, “It was so easy to spot you. No one else in Tarado Station at this time would wear school uniforms.”

Remy glances at Jackson in the silence that follows, wondering if he wants to add anything, but he just smiles and nods. Remy thinks to himself, This is going to be tough.

“Where’s your other friend at? Wasn’t he coming with us?” Lucy wonders.

“He had something come up,” Remy replies. “Speaking of, we actually are in kind of a predicament.”

He explains the situation to them, about Leo’s “lie,” and how it might be dangerous to contiune. He leaves out any mention of the pistol that is currently tucked away in his waistband.

“Well, this has turned into a disaster,” Lucy says.

Remy agrees, but also asks, “So what do we think? Should we go or not?”

“Well . . . we’re already here, so we might as well,” Jackson says. Remy suppresses the urge to congratulate his friend for finally saying some words.

“I agree,” Marlowe says. “We’ve dealt with danger. We know how to handle it if it happens.”

Remy shrugs. Lucy looks like she’s about to argue, but she gives up. Before they can discuss it further, the monorail rolls into the station. Without any argument, the four of them hop on, ready for the train to take them to whatever mysteries await.

Standing with Jackson in the monorail, Remy starts thinking about the issue at hand. The first problem is Lucy. She’s always hanging around Marlowe, which means if Jackson were to try and talk to Marlowe, he’d have to deal with Lucy at the same time.

“Basically, we need to wait for a moment when Lucy is gone. Then, you strike. If possible, I’ll draw Lucy away,” Remy says.

Jackson nods nervously and Remy puts both hands on his wide shoulders.

“Don’t listen to Leo. You don’t need him or me. You are chill, Jackson,” Remy tells him, and somehow, it seems to get through. He puffs out his chest and takes a deep breath. The redness in his face starts to fade, but Remy knows it’s going to go right back to tomato red the second he starts talking with her.

“I can do this,” he whispers to himself. Remy nods, then notices Marlowe standing alone. Lucy must have went to the restroom or something. With a heavy push, he shoves Jackson in her direction.

“You can do this,” Remy tells him, but Jackson’s too focused to even hear him. Remy decides not to watch. Instead, he looks out the window.

Since he was little, Remy always liked looking out the monorail window. Even now, he stares out the bulletproof glass and revels in the size of the city. Private buildings and residential high-rises alike whir past the train in a blur. In the distance, Remy watches central New Kakari slowly fade away. Its flashy lights and polished skyscrapers gradually disappear, like an unattainable dream slowly slipping away.

Not many people are in this train car, which Remy honestly prefers. He’d rather take in the sights of this beautiful and dangerous city with himself only. It’s quiet—so quiet, that he almost doesn’t notice Lucy standing right next to him.

For the first time in a while, she isn’t talking. She, too, is staring out the window with a surprisingly thoughtful expression. Remy decides not to start conversating. The silence is strangely comforting.

Unfortunately, Lucy breaks the silence.

“I know you’re trying to set Mar up with your friend,” she says plainly, still looking out the window. Remy nods; he suspected as much. Since their interaction at school, she had been wearing that stupid proud grin that signaled her victory.

“Are you going to try and stop us?”

“Of course not. I’m not her mom; she can do whatever she likes.”

“So why bring it up?”

Lucy doesn’t respond for a moment. Remy even wonders if she didn’t hear him at all. He turns his head toward her, and she’s no longer looking out the window. She’s looking straight at him—straight through him.

Lucy says, “Because you look sad.”

Remy scoffs. “Sad? About what?”

She points past him, to the next train car. Remy turns around and sees Jackson and Marlowe, chatting away. Jackson seems to be finally taking control of the conversation, yet Remy notices immediately the fakeness of Jackson’s suddenly overbearing talkativeness and Marlowe’s slight discomfort.

He’s trying too hard, Remy thinks.

The thought is so unexpected and crude that Remy immediately banishes it from his mind. How could he feel anything other than support for his best friend for finally getting out of his comfort zone? No, he tells himself. There’s no other feeling in his mind.

He turns back to Lucy. “Why are you pointing at them? Just so you know, they didn’t leave me out or anything. I came over to this car on my own.”

Lucy sighs, looking back out the window.

“Nevermind.”

. . .

The arcade is located in a run down building in an even more run-down district. After the four of them got off the monorail, they followed directions sent through Leo and Remy’s personal connection, leading them to a comedically destroyed building. The upper left corner of the front-side is completely gone, as if someone had just taken a bite of the side. The walls, which might have been some shade of red before, are peeling and revealing the a gritty gray concrete behind it.

Despite the disarray, there does seem to be power in the building as the lights are on. The same can’t be said for many of the surrounding buildings that are in such terrible condition that they shouldn’t really be considered “buildings” anymore.

“When Leo said ‘abandoned,’ he really meant abandoned,” Lucy says, not quite impressed. Marlowe, on the other hand, is enthralled. She murmurs something about arcades and opportunity before grabbing Lucy’s arm and rushing toward the building, leaving Jackson and Remy behind.

The two boys head towards it with a more relaxed pace.

“So how has it been going?” Remy asks, not particularly interested, but wanting to break the silence. “I saw you talking in the monorail.”

Jackson grins. His nervousness and incompetence has dissipated. It seems like after talking to Marlowe, he’s a changed man.

“I was talking with her about 2000s rap and stuff. Thank you so much for the advice, man! I feel like we really connected over it.”

Except you don’t actually like rap, Remy thinks. In fact, you don’t even like music that much.

“Of course. Glad I could help,” Remy replies calmly. Before they reach the door, Jackson slings an arm over Remy’s shoulder, much like Remy did to him earlier.

“Speaking of—I saw you and Lucy alone on the monorail, too. What’s going on there?” he asks with a grin.

“Come on, Jackson. You know me and Lucy aren’t like that. She’s my friend.”

But Jackson keeps going. “You don’t have to hide it, Remy. Isn’t this a perfect opportunity? If you can help me get alone with Marlowe, I’ll get you alone with Lucy.”

Remy shakes him off, a little too forceful. He’s not sure what it is that’s making him mad, whether it’s the insinuation that there’s something going on between him and Lucy or something else. He doesn’t want to think about it right now.

“Cut it out, Jackson,” Remy says with finality, trying to put the feeling behind him. But Jackson sounds offended.

“Or what? You’ll fight me? It’s not my fault you’re jealous.”

Hearing that last word, Remy stops in place, right in front of the door. He spots Marlowe and Lucy through the glass, exploring the abandoned arcade fervently. He doesn’t go in just yet.

“It’s not my fault you can’t talk to a girl without my help.”

Remy can barely believe the words that are coming out of his mouth. He knows it’s mean, and he doesn’t truly think that about his best friend. So why does he say it? Remy’s not sure about that or anything else anymore.

“Oh yeah? Well, it’s not my fault you’re so thin you probably can’t even hold that gun in your pocket properly!”

“Fine!” Remy shouts, pulling the revolver out of his waistband. “You take it then, since you’re suddenly the ‘gun expert’ now!”

He tosses it at Jackson and storms into the arcade, not wanting to hear another word.

. . .

Remy finds Marlowe and Lucy in the back of the arcade. The machines are all on, each displaying stuffed animals and toys of different kinds. Despite the rubble and grime covering the walls and floor, some of the machines are in decent condition. Marlowe, leaned over and staring intently, is fiddling with a joystick on one of the claw machines while Lucy is fervently banging on the glass. It looks like she’s about to break it when she spots Remy.

“Hey, Remy! What took you so long?”

Remy shrugs. “You guys were too fast.”

He stares at the claw machine. Marlowe is completely focused, not even noticing Remy next to her. She hits the button as the claw slowly reaches down, extending its claws toward a fluffy plushie of a bear. It picks the stuffed animal up,

The claw rises up slowly, but the bear slips out on its ascent, and the claw returns to its original position with nothing gained. Lucy starts angrily banging on the glass again.

“Why spend credits on the machines when you can just break it and get the plushie? It’s an abandoned arcade anyway,” Remy wonders.

Marlowe replies, “That’s the whole point of an arcade. You know they’re just trying to siphon credits out of you, but you just can’t resist spending more, because the next attempt might just be the one.”

Lucy finally stops her incessant banging to join their conversation. “I agree with Remy. I feel like the whole idea of claw machines is pretty pointless. It’s just a scam, like most everything else in this city.”

“Sure, it might be a scam. But if you toss every opportunity away because it could go wrong, you’ll never have a chance for it to go right,” Marlowe says, and Remy starts to realize what she’s trying to say. An opportunity is an opportunity. The only way to truly lose it is to ignore it.

At that, Marlowe goes back to her quest of defeating the claw machine. Remy smiles as he watches her tense up, focusing hard on the glass and the stuffed animals inside. He suddenly wishes Lucy were gone, and it was just the two of them, alone in the arcade. Remy blinks, not sure why he wished that.

But before he can make sense of that thought, he feels a hand on his shoulder. It’s Jackson.

Remy doesn’t even spare him a glance.

Jackson starts, “Remy, look, I—. . .”

“Forget it. Not right now, dude.”

Jackson nods. “So, do you want the . . . uh . . . ‘it’ back?”

Remy shakes his head. “Just keep it. Don’t you have someone else to be talking to right now?”

Even though every muscle in his body tries to stop him, Remy shoves Jackson towards the Marlowe again. Remy isn’t the main character today, and he’s okay with that. As he watches Jackson hesitantly converse with Marlowe, Remy shoves down those dark feelings that keep trying to surface. He plays dumb. Better to pretend it doesn’t exist than face it.

So he stands and stares. He stares at Jackson as he continues to court his crush. He stares as Jackson smashes through the glass of a claw machine with his bare fist, pulling out a plushie from inside and handing it to Marlowe. He stares at Marlowe’s discomforted expression at the gesture that Jackson clearly doesn’t notice.

For the next hour, all Remy does is stare. When they speak to him, his mouth moves, but it’s involuntary. Outside of one of the windows, sun starts to set, painting the sky in beautiful shades of pastel orange and yellow, but Remy barely notices.

His mind is in a blur. Remy clutches his head, feeling a splitting headache. He’s not sure of many things, but one thing is clear: he needs to get away from everything—from Marlowe, Jackson, and Lucy. He needs to get out of the arcade. Somehow, he finds his way up, up a staircase towards the roof.

A rusty door slowly creaks as Remy pushes it open, and then the sky opens up behind it.

Remy smiles. There’s something cathartic about the vastness of the sky, the way the blue slowly fades to purple, then to orange, then yellow. The way the clouds float along the edges of the horizon, caressing the sun. It’s a scene that, unlike the myriad governors and administrations of New Kakari, will never be extinguished. Remy feels a great sense of pride as he imagines the sky he’s staring up at is the same his ancestors saw.

He makes his way to the edge of the roof and sits down, his legs dangling off the side. From where he sits, he can almost see the entire city, from the run-down outer districts to the polished central district, and everything in between. Remy closes his eyes and remains still, as if keeping his position would let him stay in this spot forever.

“What are you doing all the way up here?” someone asks from behind him. He recognizes the voice before he turns around—the way her words come out deliberately and with conviction. The way she speaks a little softer than most, so she doesn’t come off as overbearing.

He watches as Marlowe pushes the door shut. It takes almost ten seconds of guttural creaking for it to finally close. Remy feels a strange anxiety that now, it’s just the two of them on the roof behind a closed door, but he doesn’t let it show.

“I just had to get away from the arcade. It’s so cramped,” Remy replies. “Why are you up here?”

“Because we’re looking for you, actually. We thought you were kidnapped.”

To Remy’s surprise, she sits down next to him. He’s suddenly conscious of her body merely inches away from his. On the other hand, when he peeks at her expression, she doesn’t seem to care at all.

“Sorry for making you guys search. Is that what the others are doing?” Remy asks.

Marlowe nods. “We split up to find you.”

“Really? What about Jackson?”

“What about him?”

“I thought you would be with him. You two seemed pretty close today,” Remy says, not even sure where the words are coming from. He knows it’s not what he wants to talk about, yet he can’t stop it.

Marlowe holds up the teddy bear that Jackson broke a claw machine for, staring at it with an unreadable expression.

“Actually, he asked me out.”

Remy feels a lump in his throat.

He asks hesitantly, “So that means . . .”

“I turned him down,” Marlowe replies, setting the plushie aside. Hearing her answer, Remy feels a wave of relief suddenly followed by shame. His best and oldest friend just got rejected and all he thinks about is himself.

“Oh, sorry for bringing it up.”

“It’s fine. It’s actually kind of why we split up—it got kind of awkward.”

Remy looks back out at the horizon, at the sun slowly setting and the sky turning darker, but still remaining vibrant and colorful. It seems to accentuate the bleakness of the city, especially the parts near them.

“Actually, since you’re here, I wanted to ask: Lucy said you’re interested in activism. If so, I think that’s pretty cool” Remy says.

Marlowe perks up at the word. Remy likes how excited she gets about the things she likes.

“I guess you could say that. I really think New Kakari could be so much better than it is now.”

Remy replies, “I totally agree. The government is not doing enough.”

Marlowe nods enthusiastically. “Right? The centralization of wealth is astounding, and the government doesn’t even seem to care about fringe violence as long as it doesn’t get close to the central district. That’s why when I think about this city I feel so—”

“ —hopeless,” Remy finishes for her.

“ —hopeful,” Marlowe says at the same time. The two of them look at each other for a moment. Clearly, there is something they don’t quite agree on.

“Hopeless? I thought you agreed that New Kakari could be better?” Marlowe asks.

Remy replies matter-of-factly, “I do, and that’s exactly why it’s hopeless. None of these governments, whether it’s this one or the one before, or the one all the way back under Mika Tarado’s administration actually care about us. They only care about themselves, and that will never change.”

“But what if you could change it?” says Marlowe. Remy doesn’t respond at first, not just because she’s showing him a new outlook on the world that he never considered, but also because she’s now so close that they’re almost touching. As she got more and more riled up during the conversation, she leaned much closer to him. He feels a his face heating up and scoots away from her slightly.

“What could I possibly do, though? I’m just one person.”

Marlowe seems to notice her overexcitement and clears her throat, returning to a normal tone.

“I kind of agree with you on that, actually. I’m just a high school student right now, so there’s so much I don’t know yet. I don’t know how the world works, but I want to know. Maybe once I know, I’ll be able to fix it.”

“You sure have some big dreams, huh.”

Marlowe shrugs. “I guess. But I also have some achievable goals, too. I want to get a stable income as soon as I can so I can get me and my mom out of the communal residency. It’s too dangerous there.”

Remy watches as some rubble falls off a building directly in front of them. He thinks back to his own parents, who spend so much time arguing that they don’t want to interact with Remy at all. But maybe it’s Remy who never tried to reach out and give back to them, to thank them for what they’ve sacrificed for him.

“You really are amazing,” Remy says quietly to himself, almost involuntarily. But Marlowe hears.

“Wh-what?” she says nervously. Realizing that he spoke aloud something he meant to say in his head, Remy covers his face.

“Forget it. I didn’t mean to say that.”

“No, it’s fine. Thank you. Honestly, I think you’re amazing, too,” Marlowe says. Remy feels his heart skip a beat as she says it, then he feels embarrassed as he imagines such a scene occurring in his chest.

Marlowe continues, “You always seem to get everything even though you’re not even trying that hard. It’s like it all comes easy for you. I think that’s pretty amazing.”

Remy feels a dumb grin creeping onto his face that he quickly stuffs away.

“Really? You think so?”

“I always struggle on math, but when you explained it to me today, I got it right and I felt like I could understand it for the first time. Honestly, I wish I met you way earlier.”

He finally musters the courage to look at her, and is pleasantly surprised to see her looking right back at him. Their eyes meet, and all the embarrassment and nerves from before seem to melt away. In her eyes, he sees himself, and he likes that self that he sees.

Remy replies, “Well, we’ve kinda known each other for a while.”

“But we were ‘classmates’,” Marlowe says. Remy rolls his eyes.

“So what, are we ‘friends’ now?”

Marlowe looks away so he can’t read her expression, but he swears he can see a smile on her face, too. Then, she turns to him, averting her eyes slightly. She talks a little softer, a little quieter than usual.

“Um, if ‘Marlowe’ is too long, you can call me ‘Mar’.”

Remy smirks. “Wow, so I’ve finally been promoted.”

“Forget it,” she says, annoyed at his joking reaction.

“Wait,” Remy says, grabbing her arm to get her attention. “You know, my name is also a shorthand. I haven’t told anyone before, but my full name is Remiculous.”

Marlowe blinks. “Seriously?”

“Nah, just kidding.”

She shoves him, annoyed. As he dramatically falls to the side, Remy can’t help but smile at how easy it is to talk to her. He’s never been able to open up like this before. Suddenly he feels an insatiable urge to know everything about her. What she likes, what she hates, what she had for breakfast. He imagines that at the moment, the two of them are enclosed in a bubble where no one can interrupt them, watching the sunset for eternity.

So when the tranquility of the bubble is interrupted, he is deeply offended. He hears a slow creaking noise behind them. It’s a dissonant sound, scraping against the ridged concrete roof and making Remy’s ears tingle. At the same time, he notices the sunset finally disappearing and the night starting to descend.

Both Remy and Marlowe turn their heads back toward the door, the source of the sound. Who is pushing open the door? Remy wonders. The question is seemingly answered as he sees the familiar purple color of Lucy’s jacket emerging from the door . . .

. . . except the jacket is ragged, beat up, and covered in grime. As Lucy steps into view, Remy sees that she’s not alone. A large, unfamiliar man stands behind her, pointing something at her head. A gun.

Remy immediately gets up off the ledge, his heart beating out of his chest.

“You two? Do you know this girl?” The burly man asks, shoving the gun harder onto Lucy’s head. She groans in pain.

“Stop that! Yes, we know her. What do you want?”

The man replies with a toothy grin. “I’m Crackton, a member of the Laggard Syndicate. Since you’re in our territory, you’ll have to pay the tax.”

Remy feels his mind struggling to comprehend all the information at once. He feels his legs weaken, his voice shaking. He tries to speak, but nothing comes out.

Marlowe asks defiantly, “What’s the tax?”

“Hand over all your items of value. Your HoloScreens, your credits, your clothes. If you want I can shoot this girl to help make that decision a little easier.”

Lucy mumbles through tears, “Remy, Marlowe, help. Please.”

“I didn’t say you could talk!” the syndicate man shakes her violently. With each shake, Remy feels more and more rage and helplessness. He’s sure that if he hands over everything, the man will certainly ask for more, and maybe even kill them anyway. But what else can he do? He reaches toward his pockets and starts pulling out everything of value, when Marlowe stops him.

She points at the syndicate man. “Free Lucy right now, or we’ll call the New Kakari Police Department on you.”

The man laughs. “The NKPD? You should already know they patrol only in central. They’d never come out here, and if they did, they certainly won’t arrive before I shoot you all in the head! Now, hand over all the—”

Bang.

The sound of the gun being fired rings out like an piercing scream. Remy feels his heart stop for a moment, thinking he just watched a bullet go straight through Lucy’s head. But as his long-time neighbor scrambles away out from under the crumpling body, and as he spots a gaping hole in the syndicate man’s forehead, he realizes.

Standing in the doorway is Jackson, his arms shaking uncontrollably as he maintains the stance with the revolver pointed forward. His eyes slowly point downward, looking at the corpse of Crackton.

His hands are shaking so violently that he drops the gun, and for a moment, Remy eyes follow its beautiful and tragic journey to land on the ground. As it falls, he imagines the gun stealing a half-second glance at the scene around it. Four kids, stricken with fear and confusion, watching the corpse of a full-grown adult man on the floor. Yet seeing this, the gun doesn’t ask any questions. It only gives out answers.

Then, it hits the floor, lightly splashing the pool of blood beneath it, sending a few drops of blood flying in every direction, yet the gun itself does not break. It lays on the ground, pointing at them with vitriolic confidence as if to say its job isn’t done yet. Remy feels an uncontrollable urge to destroy it, to prevent such an inhumane thing from inflicting harm ever again. He walks over to the scene with Marlowe close behind him.

“What are we going to do?” Lucy asks as they approach, still a little shaken and wiping tears from her eyes..

“This is really bad. This is really bad,” Jackson mutters, biting his fingernails.

“It’s going to be fine,” Marlowe says, putting a hand on Jackson’s shoulder, but he pushes her arm away, ignoring her.

She notices the reaction, but continues, “We’ll figure this out. Since he grabbed Lucy by himself, he was probably alone. As long as we’re sneaky, I think we can make it out without coming across syndicate patrols.”

“I agree with Mar,” says Remy, and Lucy’s head snaps up at the last word. Jackson also looks at him strangely.

Remy says, “Let’s agree on one thing—we don’t talk about today at all, not with Leo, not with our parents, not with anyone. No one can know about this.”

The other three nod in agreement hesitantly.

Jackson moves to pick up the gun, but his hands are shaking so much that it slips from his grasp. Marlowe sighs and picks it up herself. Remy is about to ask to hold it instead, but she looks so fiercely confident that he concludes it’s probably best for her to keep it for now.

“Let’s go,” she says, heading straight for the doorway.

“What about the body?” Lucy asks, glancing at the corpse nervously.

Marlowe says darkly, “Leave it. If we don’t get a move on soon, this guy won’t be the only person who dies today.”